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My week: Philip Hoare

Blow me, the loner scared of the sea is hit with a book on whales

The winner of the Samuel Johnson prize had to make a break from a rigid and solitary routine to attend the ceremony

JUDGMENT DAY

I began the week with a stomach full of ferrets. My book Leviathan was up for the Samuel Johnson prize - and the fact that William Hill had me down as the favourite felt like a kiss of death.

I was feeling very superstitious, but as I was walking into the prize-giving on Tuesday night a literary editor knocked a glass of wine over my £1,000 Dior Homme jacket, and I knew that must be a good sign - just as when a seagull poos on you. Even so, when it was announced that I'd won, it didn't sink in. Someone had to push me onto the stage - and I was so shocked I kissed all the judges.